


i will wait for you(r love)

by callmeshakesqueer



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Prom Night, Stargazing, Teenage Drama, They are sad, Young Zurena, just a little bit tho, rich girl and emo girl???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeshakesqueer/pseuds/callmeshakesqueer
Summary: In a quick resume, Macarena just got ditched at prom. And there is this emo badass girl taking her to her home to get high.Because that’s what her life is now, apparently.high school AU
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir
Comments: 26
Kudos: 63





	i will wait for you(r love)

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!  
> here i come with a high school one-shot because i needed to get some things out of my chest and doing that through writing is my best way to cope🤪  
> i hope you'll enjoy some young zurena content!

Out of all high school clichés, Macarena ends up with the one crying at prom. She takes her red stilettos off and throws them away down the stairs and sighs deeply as her feet are free. Tears don’t stop streaming down her face, taking eyeshadow which she spent over an hour and mascara as their victims.

She yelps, stamping her foot and grits her teeth. There is so much anger in her. And sorrow. And grief. And much more feelings which bottled up in her for months, or if not years in making.

There is something bittersweet in this scene, in feeling her heart breaking. But she didn’t even _love_ Rizos. They have been best friends since, as two seven years old, they beat each other in a sander. And perhaps, in later years, they kissed a few times but it is not about that.

It’s about the fact Rizos always been _hers_. But ever since she became girlfriends with Saray, goddamned _gitana_ , they are unbreakable; everywhere and always together.

Foolishly, Macarena hoped it would change if only for one night. For the prom that Rizos and she promised to attend together years ago, when they were still sticking to each other’s promises and didn’t abandon each other.

She even bought that stupid red dress that she found with Rizos four months earlier, the one that even wasn’t the best one she found. But her best friend liked her so much in it, Maca couldn’t say no.

And yeah, it’s pretty. Silky and long to the ground, like from dreams. But it’s becoming a nightmare, far from her expectations.

With envy, she observes two pairs pass through the hallway, laughing and stopping suddenly when she comes into the view. She must look pathetic and she fights the inner urge to scream at them.

When she hears another person oncoming, Macarena isn’t sure she will have enough power to stop herself from actually throwing out all of her anger on this random person. However, she resigns immediately seeing who walks out of the corner.

It’s the literal _fuck-up_ of her class, the girl who always gets herself in trouble and Macarena can’t count the times she’s heard stories of her committing various crimes, usually vandalism and theft.

And right now, Zulema Zahir, in a black suit, sits down on the same stairs, her hair pinned into a tight ponytail at the nape of her neck. They are shining and straight as usually, and Macarena wonders what they smell like. If this girl really stinks of cigarettes and alcohol; if the gossip is true.

A person looking so well put together can’t have a bad scent, right?

On a daily routine, Zulema never looks so tidy but she’s never looked actually slovenly, with her tight see-through tops smoothed, just like her black cargo pants or sweatpants. She’s never seen her dishevelled, only during the PE classes, in the rare cases when she attended.

“Isn’t she hot?” Rizos once asked her, while they were eating their lunch.

Zulema was sitting at the end of the hall, alone, and was eating an apple and browsing through a book. Her face was visible, as her hair was pulled behind her ears completely, not like in the usual manner where a few strands fell around her features. Which were, genuinely honest, maddeningly gorgeous.

That was Macarena’s first thought when she looked at the exposed face - jaw which literally begged to put a hand on it and cut the skin, cheekbones equally drew out. And god, her green eyes, always wide opened and seeing through all the bullshit. Maca loved the way Zahir always put blueish kohl around them. She was intimated with the way Zulema pressed her lips together, yet each of her nose scrunches amused her.

“Maybe a little,” She said. Her eyes were suddenly interested in the content of her lunch.

But let’s get one thing straight - Macarena thought and still thinks Zulema is ultimately hot.

And terrifying. Dangerous. Putting red flags and stop signs everywhere she goes not to follow her.

But Macarena has never been really smart in what she is doing, perhaps that’s why she puts on the hills when Zulema gets up after spending a moment on the stairs, running her hand on her face and sighing. She follows her to the exit.

Right in the main hall Zulema turns back and tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.

“ _Qué, Rubia_?”

“Where are you going?” It sounds more accusatory than Macarena intends to.

“And since when is that your business?”

That’s a good point. They’ve spoken times countable on fingers of one hand and each one of them being about their classes or whereabouts of the teacher. Once, about Zulema’s broken nose when Macarena had to stay with her until the doctor came.

Right now, she is at a loss for words. That’s truly none of her business.

“ _Venga_ ,” Zulema turns back and continues her walk. “Now or never.”

~

In a quick resume, Macarena just got ditched at prom. And there is this emo badass girl taking her to her home to get high.

Because that’s what her life is now, apparently.

They drive through the suburbs towards the campsite, filled with caravans, where Macarena has never been to. Zulema’s car is old and goes out one time on their way; the radio has hard times catching the station with rock music that her classmate blasts on the full volume.

Her hands sweat and she nervously swipes them against the silk material of her dress as they pull up on the parking lot. Well, it’s hardly a parking lot, just lined area where cars stay by the enormous square filled with caravans.

Macarena lingers with silence until they are standing in front of one of them, beige and unusual it could be anyone’s. Unrecognizable.

“You live _here_ with your family?” She has to ask.

Her own family, at least how it used to be earlier - mom and dad, adding Roman - owned enormous house in the financial district and sometimes had problems with having their own space, arguing all the time. She can’t imagine living with them in such a small place.

And Zulema looks even less able to share a small caravan with someone.

“No.” She shakes her head, turning the keys. “I’m alone.”

That makes more sense.

The door swings open and Zulema gestures for Macarena to come in. The blonde smiles nervously and loses her balance in the heels as she takes a high step up. She feels a pair of strong hands catching her waist and pushing forward.

Zulema closes the caravan behind them and switches the dim lights on.

It’s at least a surprise for Maca. The place, no matter how small, is tidier than her own room. The little living space is made of a couch with folded blankets put over it and a table right in front of it, with candles and school assignments put in a stack beneath the window which is veiled with dark blue curtains. All the walls are covered with various posters but always in a straight line.

Next to it is a tiny kitchen with a narrow counter and mini-fridge, some of the cupboards doors are marked with time, hanging off the little hinges. But every surface is cleaned, polished.

Further, down the corridor, there are two doors, one leading to the bedroom, the other to the bathroom, she assumes.

“Can I use the bathroom?”

Zulema nods and points to one of the doors.

Macarena throws off her stilettos by the entrance and loses in her height in one second, her feet touching the cold floor.

She is welcomed with the sight of blushing cheeks, messed up red lipstick and dried tears tainted with mascara beneath her eyes. She cleans up the mess called her face, left almost bare-faced and finishes her business.

When she comes back, Zulema has already brought out two glasses with water.

“How do you feel on the dark side of the town, _princesa_ Ferreiro?” Zulema sits down on the couch in the corner, putting one leg up and brings the knee to her chest. “Perfect grades, rich family, nice friends. Aren’t you the prom queen?”

Macarena is not, in fact. Another reason for her annoyance, yet it goes forgotten when everything else comes into the light.

“I just want to get high,” Maca says and shrugs.

Zulema bursts out laughing, “ _Oy, Rubia_ , I don’t wanna worry you but I don’t have shit.”

Maca falls heavily on the sofa next to her, “But aren’t you stoned all the time?”

This time when Zahir laughs again, Macarena follows her and it feels good to finally smile and not cry.

“God, I wish,” Zulema says and reaches for her glass. “So, are we gonna sit here in silence or are you gonna tell me whatever drama you been going through with my cousin’s girlfriend?”

“She isn’t your _cousin’s girlfriend_. She is my _best friend_ ,” Maca bites her bottom lip.

“Don’t hold back, you can say whatever you want.”

“Why should I trust you?”

Zulema shrugs but a gentle smile creeps onto her lips, “I mean, you trusted me to drive you to my house, despite you think I’m stoned all the time.”

That’s a fair point, so Macarena decides to fuck it all and sighs before opening her mouth again.

“My life isn’t as perfect as you think, you know? And Rizos knew it too, damn well, and despite that, she just went off, thriving and running around with Saray. She fucking left me when I needed her the most and there I am, even on the night we promised each other to go together.”

Her eyes fill with tears, the hazel irises glassy and one blink it takes for them to stream down her face. Her voice gets stuck in her throat.

“My father is dying and my mom can’t even bear to look him in the face. Every. Fucking. Day. I see them passing by and the heartbreak on my dad’s face when she ignores him. I know she is heartbroken, too, but she isn’t the one _dying_! And Roman just isn’t here. Half of the day at the university, the other locked in his room, not even going down for the dinner. And I’m so tired of acting like I’m alright. I’m so tired,” She cries now, her face hidden in her hands. “And I lost my best friend. And the only things alright are my grades, so, yeah, at least here you were right. But I have nothing, not really.”

When Zulema touches her, she flinches at first. Despite she is opening up here like a fool she is, it’s still Zulema Zahir, the girl she feared most of the high school.

But Zulema touches her gently, pulling her hands away from her face. She can’t read her at all but her breath hitches when she starts leaning in.

The kiss feels exactly the way Zulema exists; surprisingly, yet mysteriously. There is such softness on her dangerous lips, Macarena can only melt and give in. She cups Zulema’s cheeks and moves to sit on her lap.

Zulema holds her waist and opens her lips, to meet their tongues in the middle. And god, Macarena wishes to have this taste tattoed on her tongue forever; cigarettes and alcohol and coffee - three things she’s never been allowed to touch and now all three of them are taking away her senses. Everything is so out of control and dangerous and she can’t help but moan into Zulema’s mouth when their bodies press up against each other.

It doesn’t feel like it used to do with Rizos. Because Rizos always felt like safety and something familiar and was just a habit to her put-together life.

This is different. It’s a flame and Macarena doesn’t ever want it to go out.

Her slim fingers wander down to the black buttoned shirt and start undoing them. Meanwhile, one of Zulema’s hand curl her red dress to her hips and caresses her naked thigh, her hips find a way down her neck and sucks on the spot beneath her ear, drawing a shameless moan out of the blonde.

Moments turn into minutes and minutes turn into dozens of them until Macarena can feel her lips numbed by the numerous times Zulema bit down on them and her skin is so sensitive she can’t bare another touch of Zulema’s fingers on her thighs or waist, or lips on her chest.

They part as Macarena moves back and rests her forehead against Zulema’s shoulder.

“Are you alright, _Rubia_?” Zulema asks, her voice unsure. “Did I go overboard?”

Macarena backs out and sits on the couch but still close to Zulema, “No, I’m just tired.”

“ _Vale_ ,” Zulema answers.

They sit next to each other, panting and trying to cool down until Zulema stands up abruptly, “Do you wanna sleep over? Or I can drive you home. Whatever you want.”

“I want to do something that will make me think less,” Macarena murmurs, playing with the red fabric on her lap.

“I may think of something,” Zulema shows her hand and smiles. “Let’s go.”

She leads her outside behind the caravan and pulls a ladder made from strong ropes and it unfolds down, until the very ground. After a couple of checking if it’s holding on strongly, she starts climbing up, the ropes depressing underneath her weight.

Macarena follows, with her dress tangling by her feet and breaths deeply in when she finally stands on the rooftop.

Zulema has a lawn chair put in the middle and is already sat on it. She opens her legs widely, patting the place in front of her.

Macarena’s hesitation clearly amuses her and she repeats the motion until Ferreiro lays down, settled between her legs, with her head rested on Zulema’s chest. She is barely fitting on the lawn chair, making it uncomfortable but she pulls herself up until her head is tucked under Zahir’s chin and curls up her legs.

“Look,” Zulema points at the sky.

So she does.

“Do you see this star? It’s called _Alphard_ , the brightest star in the Hydra constellation,” Zulema moves her finger across a set of stars, drawing an image in front of Macarena’s eyes. “Have you ever heard of Hydra?”

Macarena shakes her head, taking Zulema’s arm and putting it around her neck, resting her cheek against the warm skin.

“It was a sea serpent terrorizing people of Ancient Lerna. No one was able to kill it until Hercules showed up and slain it. Hydra had several heads and every time someone cut them off they grew back but unfortunately, Hercules managed to do it.”

“Unfortunately?”

“He was just a greedy man, wanting recognition and strength,” Zulema sighs. “There is also Leo, Draco and Cancer in the sky, all his victims. And he is there, too, in the sky to remind them how _dangerous_ and _scary_ he is.” She chuckles.

“He clearly disgusts you,” Macarena also chuckles and keeps her eyes on the sea serpent swimming in the night sky. She imagines the stars moving and floating away from them, escaping from Hercules; remembering how its life ended a time before and running away from the fate catching up to it once again.

And Hercules, Macarena sees him as one of the boys in their school who are always too eager, too confident. Perhaps Fabio because she can’t stand him since last year when she agreed on one date and now he is still obsessed with her. If Hercules was also so disgusting, then Fabio fits perfectly.

“He is pathetic.”

Yep. Definitely Fabio.

They lay in silence, staring at the sky and when Macarena feels she dozing off, one last thing she does is placing a soft kiss upon Zulema’s palm.

~

For the next week, Macarena avoids Rizos. She sits alone at lunch and during classes, she switches her places with other classmates; sometimes she wonders if she sat with Zulema in the last row, the brunette would kill her.

But they never speak at school, it all magically changes once the building is far behind them and Zulema walks Macarena home every day.

Rizos tries to call her but every time Maca ignores the incoming calls and messages and when her best friend tries to visit her, she begs her mom to tell Rizos she isn’t home.

She doesn’t want to hear apologies, doesn’t want any explanations. She is just stuck somewhere in the middle, because a lot has changed in one night and she doesn’t want to even come back to old times when Saray was gone. Because that would mean Zulema Zahir would be gone, too, and that’s the last thing Macarena wants.

However, her stroke of luck is gone within another week.

Zulema doesn’t show up to school, anything unusual, and she is tied down to walk home alone. She is already putting her headphones on when someone touches her elbow.

Startled, she turns back and is met with a pair of big brown eyes and softly arched eyebrows.

“Macarena, can we talk?” Rizos says, nervously playing with her hands. She fixes the bag on her arm and presses her lips together, trying not to stare a hole into the blonde.

“Do we have anything to talk about?” Maca says and moves forward.

“Our friendship,” Rizos follows. “I know I fucked up but I don’t know what you expect if you won’t even listen to me.”

Macarena doesn’t know either, so she simply walks down the street, towards her home. She knows Rizos is by her side all the time.

“I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone. I broke our promise, I know, I was just so blinded by Saray…”

“And here we go again, Saray being the argument for everything, Saray this, Saray that,” Maca laughs bitterly.

“What do you expect from me? She is my girlfriend and it’s been barely two months we’ve been together, of course, I’m crazy about her,” Rizos doesn’t sound attacking, her voice is calm and she is just trying to make Macarena understand. But Macarena is past understanding and past being the second choice.

“I don’t wanna hear it, I really don’t,” She stops at the fork of streets, one to her neighbourhood and the other to Rizos’. “We are best friends. Ever since the first grade. And you let me down.”

Estefania looks around, but finally meets Macarena’s eyes.

“So what do you expect me to do? I won’t break up with Saray.”

That’s it. That’s when Macarena breaks.

Her eyes fill with tears and her hands curl up in fists, “I don’t want you to break up with anyone! I don’t have any expectations! You two can be together until your fucking death and that’s only your business! Let me be fucking mad, let me be heartbroken, because I loved you, Rizos. I was _in love_ with you.”

The words between them hang heavily.

Macarena turns back when tears fall over the edge and mark her crimsoned with anger face. She doesn’t react to Rizos’ calling her name, just marches to her home, while her heart frees itself of all the hard feelings from the past couple of months. Because, yes, she _was_ in love with Rizos. But she isn’t anymore, hasn’t been for a longer time.

Despite, it hurts as bad, to be betrayed just like this. She needs time. And the company of someone who doesn’t expect anything from her and just understands.

~

Zulema doesn’t pick up the phone for the next two days until she shows up at school on Wednesday. Macarena ignores people staring when she approaches the brunette with crossed arms.

“Where have you been?”

Zulema draws her eyes from the screen of her phone and raises her eyebrows, “ _Hola, Rubita_ , nice to see you, too.”

“You didn’t pick up your phone,” Maca says, her face grimly overcast.

“I went on an eye-opening and life-changing journey with myself,” She smiles mystically but then, “I broke my phone and needed to get money for a new one, so I got two full days of work.”

“I’m glad your back,” Maca finally smiles and settles on Zulema’s desk, moving her notebooks aside.

“Did you miss me?”

“Not as much as you would like,” Macarena chuckles.

Her heart flutters when she hears Zulema’ laughter echoing around her.

“Do you want to come over after school?” Macarena says after a moment.

“Is that a date, _Rubia_?”

The bell rings and puts noise over whatever Ferreiro’s answer may be.

~

Zulema smiles awkwardly when she walks in with Macarena to her house, greeted by empty silence. She suddenly regrets she is wearing her oldest and biggest cargo pants and that T-shirt with not completely PG illustration, because if she meets Macarena’s parents like that - she won’t probably make the best impression.

Usually, she doesn’t care but the neighbourhood looks so nice, like out of a soap opera and Macarena is wearing pink tennis skirt and white shirt and looks like a rich white girl she is.

And Zulema doesn’t fit in this vision with her tattoed forearms. She can finally breathe once they’re upstairs and walk into the big bedroom.

It has white walls with pastel paintings, enormous and high bed right in front of the door, a big wardrobe at the other end of the room and next to it stands white as everything else desk. When she walks further and turns her head left she sees a standing mirror, with fairy lights hang over it and a couple of polaroids glued to it.

Macarena throws her schoolbag on the floor by the bed and jumps onto it, lying on her back and sighs with content.

Zulema lies by her side and can’t help but jump a little bit, feeling the softness of the mattress. God, her back wouldn’t hurt so bad with a bed like this. A literal dream.

She feels Maca’s hand in her and they interlock their fingers; for a moment, she forgets to breathe, feeling the warmth in her stomach and dizziness in her head. She’s already kissed that girl and saw _a lot_ of her body, yet this gesture seems more intimate. So soft. So unlike her.

Maca turns to her and their lips meet, turning into a heated meeting and soon, Zulema is hovering over topless Maca while the blonde tries to get rid of her trousers.

“Do you have to wear two belts?” She hisses between kisses.

“It makes me look cool,” Zulema grins and finds bites on Macarena’s earlobe, drawing a low moan from her.

“You would cooler without any clothes,” Maca says.

Zulema lets herself be stripped out of her garments, left only in underwear and pulled underneath the sheets. Her skin covers in goosebumps when Macarena licks her nipple and her free hand wanders down, pulling on her panties’ waistband.

That’s when they hear a car pull up in front of the house. Their panicked eyes meet and they jump out of the bed, collecting their clothes and putting them on.

“You have your shirt on the wrong side,” Zule says while putting on her black bra.

They come downstairs to be met with Macarena’s mom who ordered pizza and picked it up on the way. She says she needs to go back to the hospital soon and doesn’t have time to make any dinner, then asks Macarena to give her father medicine and disappears behind a door.

Zulema notices how Macarena’s face turn cold and she just nods, presumably with her thoughts somewhere away than with her mother.

Later, when it’s evening they are lying on the bed, but dressed this time. Macarena turned on the fairy lights which are the only source of light in the room. Perhaps that’s why Zulema finally speaks up.

“I moved out from my parents’ house when I was sixteen,” She says, feelings Macarena’s presence beside her. Everything is so goddamned easy with that girl. “Maybe it’s better to say, I escaped. They live an hour from the town so thankfully, I don’t have to see them. They don’t know I’m here. And I’m better off. I…”

Macarena catches her hand, “Did they hurt you?”

Through Zulema’s mind pass supercuts of her childhood and early teenage years; she flinches at the very reminder. She presses her lips together and nods slowly.

“Then I’m sorry, I really am,” She says softly, her thumb moves across Zulema’s hand. “And I’m glad you got out.”

“If you ever tell anyone about this I will slaughter you.”

Maca holds back her smile, “ _Vale_.”

“I’ve never told anyone about that, except for Saray. Her dad stopped talking to my mother even before both of us were born, so we met by an accident at school,” She says. “I don’t do this shit- I don’t trust like that. I have no idea what’s different about you but you saw me. Like not the way I behave, not the way I speak to teachers, you approached me because you saw me. No one ever did that.”

“It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made,” Macarena says and turns, throwing a hand over Zulema’s waist, sliding her hand under the material of her T-shirt; her cold hand gets in contact with the softness and warmth.

Zulema hides her nose in the blonde locks, sensing unfamiliar scent, she guesses it’s an almond shampoo with addition of flowery perfume. It smells like safety. She’s been in need of some since she was born.

~

With the graduation on the horizon, Macarena is lost in preparations for her speech while Zulema is cooking in her little kitchen and glances from time to time at the blonde. She is slouching over the table, biting the end of her pencil and surrounded by squashed pieces of paper.

When the dinner is ready and Zulema places a plate in front of her, she moves aside all of her things and sadness is bright in her hazel eyes.

“What is it, Maca?” Zulema takes a place in front of her, curling spaghetti around her fork and absorbing it at once.

“I’m tired,” She says. “And everything I write is shitty. And I’m even more tired, Zule.”

Every time she uses that diminutive Zulema can feel her heart skipping and then her brain kicks her ass mentally.

“You’re literally the best student of our year and won so many contests with writing I can’t count them. You’re brilliant at it, I read some of those works,” Zulema is busy with eating and she can’t see the way Maca looks at her, wide-eyed.

“You read them?” She asks with disbelief in her voice.

“I was curious what the fuss was about,” Zulema shrugs but breaks a little smile when she sees dimples in Macarena’s cheeks.

Mood changes for better then and they take a short nap after dinner. When they wake up, Zulema looks grumpy to realize she has to drive Macarena back home.

While Macarena is collecting her things, Zulema waits outside. She can’t hear someone approaching until she hears coughing behind her. She turns with her papers in hands and sees Rizos, looking completely lost.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, too surprised to be mad.

“Saray drove me here,” Estefania smiles gently. “I wanted to see you and…”

That’s the moment she forgives Rizos at once; how her eyes sadly glisten in the sunlight already coming down and how she bites her bottom lip nervously. It’s her best friend and she can not imagine going like this for longer.

She crosses the distance between them and swipes Rizos into her arms. The girl melts instantly and chuckles happily.

“I acknowledge I hurt you and you don’t have to believe me but it never was my intention, I didn’t know you feel about me,” She throws one word after another, so fast Macarena barely catches them.

“I’m okay now,” She says when they pull back. “But don’t forget about me again.”

“I won’t. I promise,” Rizos smiles and jumps in for another hug.

They laugh together and leave the caravan. Met with an interesting sight of cousins sitting on the bonnet of Saray’s car with cigarettes in hands and staring at the neighbours pulling a drunk man into another caravan, waving to them and getting a greeting back, girls raise their eyebrows and head towards them.

“ _Oye_ , they’re back!” Saray throws away her cigarette and steps on it, ready to kiss her girlfriend.

Rizos pushes her away, “Your mouth tastes bad.”

“ _Gracias_ ,” Saray says and pulls out a gum from her pocket.

Macarena can’t help but smile when she finally finds herself in Zulema’s car and they rush down the streets to the main part of the town.

“Is everything okay?” Zulema says, hesitation clear in her voice. “I heard you have some history with Rizos.”

“I want to be fair with you, completely honest. There was something I have to admit, I think I loved her more than a friend. But that’s past, yet I need you to know, so you don’t feel lied to,” Macarena starts, staring at the houses they are passing by.

“I know that,” Zulema says and feels her cheeks burning with being so open in the daylight. “I want to believe that.”

“Those past weeks, I’ve never been happier and I truly hope you won’t slip away, I hope you’ll trust me,” Macarena says but there is a hint of worry in her voice. “But the matter with Rizos is still fresh and I’m healing. I’m far past being in love with her, it’s been very long, really, but she broke my heart. And I want to heal on my own, not by someone else’s presence. I don’t want to use you, I need time until we can move further.”

“You think I want something more?” Zulema asks and watches Macarena’s face turn red.

“I mean, I was just- I”

“I’m kidding,” Zulema laughs but calms down quickly. “I’ll wait if you need time. Just don’t make me wait forever.”

“I need a week or two to settle everything, I need to accept what’s done is done,” Macarena says and pulls Zulema’s hand, pressing her lips to the plam.

“As long as we can still make out, I’m fine with it,” Zulema grins cheekily and gets a gentle slap on her thigh.

Feeling everything uncovered between them, she can finally turn on the radio and they sing together, yelling at the top of their lungs. And when Macarena leaves the car, Zulema pulls her back and kisses her gently.

“We should kiss for greetings and goodbyes,” She explains. “It’s nice and polite.”

“Oh, really? And since when are you nice and polite?”

“If you don’t like it I can just throw you to the backseat and ruin you,” She says, watching the way Macarena’s mouth waters and her eyes shine at the very thought.

However, her self-preservation must be tough because she denies with a smile and almost runs back home. She isn’t sure if she will be able to say no the next time and prays to god for more strength.

She turns back one time in the door and sees Zulema driving away. Facing whatever is waiting for her at home doesn’t seem so scary with the vision of the brunette tomorrow morning, waiting for her in the same place.

**Author's Note:**

> every comment will make my heart dance happily!❤


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